Happy Wheels: PewDiePie Style
by shay007
Summary: The father and son without the bike! This is PewDiePie style; son's POV. T for strong language. Please enjoy and watch Pewdie!
1. No More Bikes

**Ok, so I'm a biiiiig fan of PewDiePie, and as I was watching his 'Happy Wheels' videos, I couldn't resist writing a story on the dad and son, without a dangerous quest on a bike! Very random! Includes swearing! SO, please no hating! ~If you havn't seen the videos, you should check them out on YouTube~**

**P.S. It's written from the son's point of view! And, he's American.**

"Honey, time to get up!" Mom shouted up the stairs. I sat up, and beamed, as it was Sunday. Sunday meant spending time with Dad. Natrually, he usually took me on biking trips, which always resulted in dangerous injuries, and he showed me no love, but I loved having a fun afternoon with my dad.

I went downstairs, pulling on my Sunday clothes; orange top, green shorts, and a pair of scuffed trainers.

Dad was wearing his biking gear, minus the hat, and glared at me over the Cap'n Crunch. Mom was buttering some toast for me, and smiled lovingly at me as she passed me the plate.

I munched enthusastically, and asked with a muffled voice, "So, what are we doing today?"

Dad scowled. "You fucking disgraaace. Where do we usually go on Sunday's, you little homo?"

Mom frowned, and said with a steely voice, "Yourself and your father are going to go to town, and have some lunch. Then, you're going to come back and do the gardening."

Dad breathed in and out deeply, and muttered, "You little shit."  
>"Yaaaaaaaaay!" I cried out, giving Dad a big smile.<p>

At least we wouldn't have to have another fatal accident this week.

Sitting in the packed resteraunt, with large, loud families all around us, me and Dad got a small table in a cramped corner, and he sent me to get some food.

I got a burger with fries and a milkshake from him, and a hotdog with fries and an icecream for me.

"What are you doing with that junkfood, you fucking greedy shit?" Dad snapped, picking at his fried irritably.

"I'm hungry thoooough!" I whined, my shoulders sagging.

"I don't caaaaaaaare. Give your icecream to that woman!" he ordered, pointing at an overweight, short haired woman who was nom-nom-nomming on a massive pizza with all the toppings.

"I don't think she wants one." I murmered weakly, before Dad kicked me under the table.

"Goooooo!" he insisted, pointing at her.

I stood, tears streaming down my face, and wordlessly handed the fat lady my icecream. She scooped it out and put it on her pizza, before choking that down too.

I sat back down, and started picking at my fries.

"Be happy, you fucking disgrace!" Dad insisted, frowning moodily.

I gave a massive smile, and ate quickly.

"Ugh." he sniffed, looking away.

"Mom told you to be nice to me!" I said hopefully, starting on my hotdog full of gloopy, ruby-red ketchup.

"I don't caaaaaaaare! Your mom's a fat, ugly disgraaace!" Dad moaned.

I sighed and carried on with my hotdog, feeling sorry for myself.

As we walked home, I hugged Dad in the street.

"Get off me, you little gaaaaay!" Dad spat, pushing me off.

"But Dad, I love you!"

"Well, I don't love you, son, you're just one big disgrace! You were an accident! Mom never meant to have you!"

"Dad, why don't you love me? I love you!" I sobbed, hugging myself.

"Stop complaining, that's all you ever do!" he replied venomously.

At home, Mom smiled expectantly.

"So, how did it go?" she asked, wearing her baggy leggings and flowery top, a duster in one hand.

"It was so fun! I had fries and a hotdog!" I skipped along the hallway and hugged Mom, feeling hurt inside.

"Great!" Mom beamed, just as Dad retorted with, "Shut up, you little disgraaace!"

"Honey, don't take that tone with your son!" she snapped.

"Shuttup!" he replied. "I'm going cycling!"

And that's how we ended up in hospital _this_ week.

**TGI over! This was quite hard to write, because I couldn't think of anything, but it's a try, and a practice! Please don't judge me, but this was hard! Thanks for reading, and sorry it was so pointless!**


	2. Birthdays

**Hey, I'm back -[]-[]! **

**Sooo, stories on Happy Wheels: can't resist writing another chapter and maybe more if I have the complete time (which, trust me, I will find!). SO, yet again, I will write about Pewdie, and have compelted an Amnesia-style story, which you can check out! BroArmy! PLUS I've decided to name the son!**

"So, son, you ready to go?" Dad asked kindly enough.

"Ugh, Dad, I'm scared, it looks scary, I wanna go shopping with Mom!" I whined, whimpering in my little midget seat.

"Aaagh, shut up, you fucking homo!" Dad growled, before suddenly pedalling the bike at full speed down the long, diagonal hill towards the hovering sheets of glass, which got thicker as it went on.

"Daaaaaaaaaad!" I shrieked. You guessed it: it was Sunday. Dad's time to take me out for the day. Mom was happily buying me a new school uniform, as I'd grown three centimetres over the last few weeks. No matter how much Mom told me I was getting a big boy, Dad always said, "You're still gay, son, don't forget that."

Anyway, we carried on, speeding through the first sheen of glass with no sign of slowing, the world whizzing past at break-neck speed – something that tended to happen to me.

"Daaaaad!" I shrieked again, my screams piercing like the shards of glass which bounced into my face, my hair, my knees, my shins, my arms, my hands – everywhere. Dad seemed content on his bike, pedalling and smashing through sheens and sheens of glass.

"Shut up, son, this is what I call living!" Dad yelled smartly as we bashed against the thickest of the glass sheens, giving me whiplash.

I screamed, sobbing as Dad continued to throw us at the glass again and again.

Suddenly, Dad's arms snapped off, pulling off at the hinges, and blood squirted everywhere, his helmet falling off, his stature drooping as he roughly dropped to the ground.

"Dad?" I whimpered, peeking through my wet lashes at him on the floor.

"You fucking disgraaaaaaace."

"So how was it, boys?" Mom asked brightly, feeding Dad grapes whilst the nice nurse bathed his wounds.

"It was...fun." I said, my enthusiasm draining.

Of course. He had forgotten. Again. It was my birthday tomorrow, and he was getting his arms reattached – again – in a cold, impersonal hospital.

"Well, JB, don't worry, your father will be allowed us to visit again tomorrow!" Mom smiled, and I smiled back weakly.

Dad peered at me, his nostrils flaring; he wouldn't want me to join him in hospital for my birthday.

"You'll be eight! Think of how exciting that will be!" Mom said, baring an enourmous grin.

"Yeah." I nodded. Something told me Dad would ruin my birthday like he always does.

"Happy birthday, JB!" Mom sang, handing me a big sack full of presents and sitting on the end of my bed.

I smiled excitedly, and tore open the first present.

It may have been Monday, and all my friends were at school, but I was allowed off to spend time with my 'poor father'.

My first gift was a Wolverine action figure.

"Cool!" I yelled. The rest of my presents were great. But, after eating some breakfast, and watching my favourite programs on tele for a bit, Mom decided it was time to go.

"Come along, JB, your father is expecting us!" she said smartly, pulling on her silk purple scarf.

"Mom," I stopped tugging on my coat, and leant against the wall.

"What is it, sweetheart? Is your poorly knee still hurting?"

"It's Dad. I -" I took a deep breath. "I think he hates me."

Mom blinked a few times, looking comically like the fat woman who I gave my ice cream to last week.

"Of course not, jellybean! He loves you very very much!" she said quickly, helping me with my coat. "Now let's go and give Daddy some of this lovely birthday cake!"

At the hospital, Dad watched me as I explained all of my presents in full detail, my mood hyper after all the cake.

"Shut up, you're so annoying!" Dad grunted, snapping his head away from me.

"But Daaad, I havn't told you about my H-"

"I don't caaaaare! You're a fucking disgraaaaaaace! Get a life!" he said.

Mom neatly folded my coat, frowning. "That's enough."

"Susan, shut up." Dad snapped, before taking a long sip of juice.

Mom looked miserable and unhappy for a second, and her drooping, wide eyes made me want to cry.

But she suddenly stood, and stormed off angrily.

"Dad, you upset Mom." I said sadly, watching my plump, cheerful Mom rush away.

"Ah, she's a fucking disgrace, the fat bitch." Dad retorted, reaching under his pillow. "Now shut up, you little fag."

He thrusted a round parcel at me. "Happy fucking birthday, gay."

I opened it timidly, hands shaking, and tore the paper, revealing a shiny, pink, Barbie cycling helmet.

"Oh, Dad, it's – it's beautiful." I whispered in awe.

"Put it away, I don't want Martin in the next bed to see I have a girl son!" Dad hissed, gesturing to a naked man, splayed almost frozen on his bed next to my father.

I shivered queasily, and looked back at the helmet. On the tag, it read:

_To Son, JB, or whatever the fuck your name is,_

_Happy fucking birthday. I hate you._

_Dad._

_P.S. Disgraaaaaaace_

I sobbed happily and hugged him tightly, before getting punched in the face by Dad's stumps (the arms were to be fitted the following day).

It wasn't the exact love and care I wanted from him, but it was the next best thing.


	3. Gingerbread, Women and Wolves

**Hey, yup, it's me, with more Happy Wheels! Wooo! Anyways, this is basically for all those who review (I love you guys so so much), and blah de blah. SO, I need help with what to write in the future, like, situations, new characters, etc. so it would be great for some ideas to help me write more chapters and stories! So, this is for the bros! ~brofist~**

I spooned my cereal miserably into my mouth, hoping something interesting would happen. Mom had been sick, and Dad refused to get us any food from the grocery store – for me, anyway. I had survived on breakfast foods, and was doing pretty well.

Until Dad decided I should leave.

"Well, son. The time has come for you to bugger off and leave me and my wife alone. Now piss off and find a place in a forest where you can live." he said, pushing me out the door with much force.

"But Dad I -"

"Don't care." he said simply, slamming the door.

Mom didn't even notice.

**SCENECHANGE**

I sat, alone and terrified, deep in the woods, and rekindled the flickering flames that flew near my face.

If Dad was here, he would smash my face into the fire.

I opened my eyes wider when I suddenly saw what I'd been leaning against; a giant, sweet smelling cottage made from exactly that – sweets!

I desperatly licked the walls, tore apart the window sills, picked the sugary flowers and gulped them hurriedly.

I realised a woman, old, thin and hagged, was watching me.

"Come inside, my dear!" she smirked kindly, though no light touched her eyes.

I stood up solemnly, and started forward, trembling.

"Woah, woah, wait, wait!" she suddenly cried, throwing her flabby arms out to me, palms forward.

"You're that little snobby kid who rides that bike with your father! The one who flipped me off!" the woman howled, pointing at me with a pointy finger.

I nodded sheepishly, my face increasing in colour.

"Well, bugger this, I'm not luring _you_ into my humble abode!" she snapped, whirling back into her cottage.

I shrugged and went back to chewing on a piece of gingerbread wall.

A large howl from behind me made me shudder weakly, and I turned to see an enourmous wolf staring at me, it's cold, black eyes hungry as it licked it's furry lips.

My mouth fell open, and I rushed to the old ladies door to plead to be let in.

When she poked me with a stick through her letterbox, I knew I was a goner – and fast.

I quickly sped up, and rushed towards a neighbouring tree, which didn't conceal me at all. The wolf gained on me, and snapped its jaws straight in my face.

Suddenly, a loud, cursing voice echoed around the trees.

"Hey, wolfie!"

I turned in shock, like the wolf did, and my mouth fell open.

_It was Dad!_

"I'm the only one that murders the little twat! So piss off!" he growled sharply, his eyes almost as dangerous as the wolf's.

It turned to face him, it's tail slapping me in the face, and I swear to the good lord that the aroma off that tail was a collection of various crap samples; I never want it in my face again.

The wolf bounded towards Dad, and I screamed, "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaad!"  
>"Shut up, you little disgrace, I'm busy!" Dad yelled, grabbing a large stick and hitting the wolf, screaming, "For Oprah!"<p>

I covered my eyes, and shivered against the tree.

"You know what, I was never Team Jacob!" Dad roared at the wolf, before continuosly bashing the wolf's skull.

When it finally dropped down, frozen against the floor, I ran at Dad, nearly knocking him over.

"I love you so much, Dad, you're the greatest!" I simpered, wrapping my arms round him tightly.

"Whatever, get the fuck off me, you little freak! You're like your mom when I proposed." Dad replied.

"Have you come to take me home?" I asked, beaming happily.

Dad stared at me. "No, I forgot to give you that damn piece of bread. Now run away to a large stream and drown yourself before your mother gets better and realises her little shit went missing."

I slumped on the ground, tears welling. "Thanks for the bread, then."

"Whatever, go away. Your face reminds me of a rats; it's depressing me." Dad sniffed, before face-palming me and walking away.

So, me and Bready were all alone, ready to take on the real world.

Time to find home.

To be continued...

**Wooo, another chapter finished! I'm proud of myself for accomplishing this, and getting so many poisitive reviews; they make me all gooey inside! Remember, all suggestions and ideas are helpful! ~brofist~**


	4. Filthy Peasents

**Hiiiii, I'm back from under my rock, sorry for taking so long, I've been having all school stuff and things about my teacher to deal with, but I'm back, so please don't kill me! Also, thank's so much for the reviews, they mean so much to me. I love you guys!**

It had been a week since Dad had rescued me from the wolf. Now, I was back on my own, in the wilderness.

I had been surviving on my small piece of bread, and could already feel my skin hanging off my bones.

I miss Dad. And Mom. Mom must still be sick, since she hadn't come to look for me. Oh well. All I really wanted was to see Dad again.

I woke, shooting up into the sitting position on my pile of leaves, on a damp, yet sunny, mid-day Tuesday (I think). I shook my head and tried to snuggle back down, smiling softly.

I thought I'd heard Dad's voice echoing through the clearing.

"So, unlike that little pile of shit, you have the natural ability to stay on a bike and not fuck it up. We shall go again!" the voice commanded through the trees, and I heard a small, high-pitched reply.

I sat up again, and twisted my neck round, just seeing a small boy on a bike riding with his all-too-familiar father.

"Dad!" I screeched, just as a large amount of leaves flew into my face from the wheels of the shiny blue bike which whizzed past me, belonging to the young boy.

Dad pulled the brakes right next to me, and sniffed, whilst the boy skidded back next to us.

"Oh, it's you is it? Yes, your mother was wondering where you are. Too bad I'm not." Dad shrugged, and got ready to ride off with the boy.

"What? Dad, don't you miss me?" I asked sadly.

"No. I never missed you. You are a disgrace to the name of...biking?" He looked slightly thrown, and looked at the boy for a better idea, before shrugging.

"But Dad, I miss you, and Mom." I whined.

"Well, I have Anton now. Goodbye." Dad said tartly, before riding off into the distance, 'Anton' at his heels. Well, wheels...

I woke again, with a stiff neck and bunged up nose, to a bright white.

For a moment, I wondered if Dad was back and ready to run me over again like he did three years ago, but this light wasn't headlights. It was...Santa?

A jolly looking, red-suit-clad, bearded man, was ho-ho-hoing in his sled, whilst various green elves stood in the reigndeers (sp?) place.

"Santa?" I whispered, my voice cracking.

"Yes, it's me, poor smelly homeless boy. Would you like me to grant your Christmas wish?" he asked, looking at me with kind, beady eyes.

"But it's not Christmas!" I said thoughtfully, staring at the sacks of toys sitting behind him.

Santa sniffed, and said, "Well, fuck this then, RUN YOU FILTHY PEASANTS!"

The elves began to run, the bells jingling behind them, whilst I shouted, "Santa, take me with you!"

Santa stopped, turned in his sleigh to face me, and said with a malicious look in his eye, "Are you sure, hobo boy?"

I nodded, trying to forget Anton and Dad.

"Fine, hop aboard boy, and we'll have a lovely time in the North Pole! Let us go before it gets dark early. RUN YOU FILTHY PEASANTS, I SAID RUN!"

**So, that's it for now, please review, read, share, whatever the hell you want, and constructive critisism and any idead is useful! No mean comments please! Thanks for reading! * BROFIST! ***


	5. Snowmen and Secrets

**WOOOOAH havn't written in AGES, but I'm back on the wagon, and should be writing as much as possible. I'm handling another account AND writing a real story which hopefully should be published! WOOP! Well, when I finish it. So, back to where we left off, JB and Santa. So, enjoy, bros :D **

Santa flew almost all night through the stars, 'ya'-ing at his elves to keep us at a quick and powerful speed.

"So, little boy, what's your name?" Santa asked, frowning as the clouds flew into his face.

"JB," I replied politely, trying not to reach round to grab the toys lying in the sacks behind me.

"JB? Hmm...I'm going to call you Timmy. Timmy Clause (sp?)." Santa said finally, and before I knew it, we were at the frosty North Pole.

"Come on then, Timmy, time to meet Mrs Clause."

Santa pushed me inside the large, wintery house, and I saw a quite old woman with dark grey hair bending over a fire, making marshmallows. She turned, and smiled when she saw me.

"Herrow!" she said kindly, smiling with a kind of dementedness. "Who are rooo?"

"I'm Timmy," I said, holding out my hand. She shook it, and, with the eyes of a frog, stared at me pleasently.

"I'm Mrs Clause, here, have a marshmallow, no, have two, and a hot chocolate, here's a biscuit to dunk, no, here's another, here's an elf to dunk -"

"Mrs Clause," Santa coughed loudly. Mrs C froze. "Leave it. Can you find this boy a bed."

"Yes," Mrs Clause said, taking me upstairs. The floors were furry and warm, and I felt happy.

"Oh look, the naughty list has unravelled again!" Mrs Clause said, as if she was scolding. She picked it up, and I looked at the end – it said PewDiePie. That was my father.

"Is something the matter, Timbo?" Mrs Clause asked, looking at me funny.

I shook my head, tears welling up inside me. "No. I'm fine."  
>Mrs C took me to a spare room, where lots of toys to be tested in time for December lay scattered across the bed.<p>

"Sorry it's a mess, but, arrooo." Mrs Clause shrugged. I didn't know what 'arrooo' meant, but I beamed at the sight before me.

"Toys! So many toys!" I ssaid gleefully, rushing round and picking them up.

"Well, I'll let you settle in. Bathroom's down the hall." Mrs Clause smiled, raising her eyebrows.

I sat and played with my toys for a while, and looked out the window, seeing a shooting star flit across the sky.

"Hmm. I wish Dad could somehow come and find me." I whispered, before settling in for the night and sleeping the best sleep I'd had in a while.

"Timmy! Herrrrrrooooooooo? Breakfast!" Mrs Clause shouted up the stairs. I opened my eyes and flashed a smile, rushing out of bed to meet my new parents.

"Hello, Santa, hello Mrs Clause." I said quickly, eating the eggs and toast hurriedly; it burnt my tongue but tasted too good to miss.

"Hello, Timmy." said Santa from behind 'The Bro News'.

"So, what are you up to today?" Mrs Clause asked happily?

"Well, I was wondering if I could make a snowman?" I asked shyly.

"Sure! Wrap up warm though," Mrs Clause frowned.

I felt great. I had new parents, a new, Christmassy life, and everything was perfect. I felt at home already.

Half an hour, I set up camp outside, and began rolling giant snowballs to create the perfect snowman.

I grunted as I pushed the smaller snowball onto the bigger one, and looked around for some coal. I pushed it in for buttons, eyes and a frowny mouth and eyebrows, and searched high and low for a carrot.

I decided to go to the reindeer paddock, and found a pile of carrots in the corner. I patted Rudolf and Comet, and was about to go over to Prancer when I saw Santa shouting at an elf.

"What do you mean, he wants his son back?" he growed, bending low over the elf.

"I, I don't know, sir! We just received a threatening letter and -" whimpered the elf, before Santa slapped him.

"He is _not_ getting his son back! It's my son! Mine and Mrs Clause's. He can't have him back ever again! Remember our deceased, Timothy? Well, Timmy is exactly what I need to stop Mrs Clause going crazy!" Santa yelled, slapping the elf again. "This..._man_ can't even look after a child!"

"I'm sorry, sir, I'll get right on it! I won't let you down." The elf hurried away, but Santa grabbed him by the collar.

"You'd better ho-ho-hope so!" Santa muttered darkly. "RUN, YOU FILTHY PEASENT!"

I hid as Santa and the elf left, going seperate ways in seperate ways.

I barely knew Santa and Mrs Clause in person, and they were intent on keeping me? Impossibru! I suddenly felt the overwhelming want to go home, and I realised I couldn't.

I was trapped forever, with only my Snow-Dad as company.

"You still love me, right?" I asked it, thinking of my real father, hugging the snowman tightly. With a splat the head fell on mine, painfully sticking shards of ice and coal in my eye.

Yep, it was sure like Dad.

**Oooooh, suspence. Yeah, yeah, it's short, but I did try with this. Review please, it's you guys who keep me going :) I just wish PewDiePie himself finds these stories! BTW you can follow me on Twitter if you want; JovyJacksun, and give me a shout out and I'll follow back :) **

**Brofist :) **


	6. Dirty Jokes and Rescue Missions

**Woop, I'm on a Pewdie hype! Sooo, back to where we left off – what will JB/Timmy do?! Woop!**

It was three nights later. Mrs Clause and Santa had been so kind to me, listening to me, playing games with me, letting me ride on the reindeers, feeding me lots of chocolate and sweets, letting me play with the toys – every kid's dream.

But, deep in my little-boy heart, I missed Mom, and especially Dad, so much.

Just the thought of him calling me 'Little Shit' brought tears of sadness to my eyes. He was always so... Yeah, let's not carry on with that route.

Santa became more secretive though, always talking sneakily to his elves, and staring at me funny. Like, he was...waiting.

I tried to shrug it off.

This third night, I was doing a puzzle with Batman on the front humping Robin, when I realised something – Dad was coming to save me. I wished it. I heard it.

I slowly walked away, and wandered aimlessly up the stairs.

"Timmy, where are you going?" Santa called, flicking through channels until he landed on the Adult Chat and Date channel.

"I'm just – er – getting some more toys." I said desperatley, my eyes flashing wildly for inspiration.

Santa chuckled. "Boys and their toys. Ha, thats what she said. Alright, Timmy, you go get some. Ha, she said that again!"

I shook my head, and went on up, closing the door silently behind me. I turned, and flicked on the light, as it was so dim, and saw a figure in a bicycle helmet watching me from the window.

I struggled not to scream.

"Dad!" I whisper-shouted gleefully, running towards him, before he moved away so I banged into the window.

"What did I say about _hugging _and _touching_?" Dad growled, his voice low yet angry.

"Oh, Daddy, I love you so, youcame to rescue me!" I said gleefully, hopping on the spot. "We can practice synchronised dance mo -"

"Shut uuuup, you little shit!" Dad whined, hitting me. "I came back because I blew up Anton."

"You _blew up _-" I began, before Dad hit me again.

"Yeeees, it's a fucking disgraaace. It was an accident. Now let's go, your mom wants you back."

"Okay," I agreed eagerly, and we eased open the window.

"Oh, Dad, it's too far down," I said, peering out the window.

"No it's not," Dad said quickly, and he pushed me. I fell head first in the snow, and suspected a broken wrist.

"Daaaaad!" I couldn't help but yell, and I heard a sudden 'ho-ho-HO' from the house. "Dad, hurry!"

Dad landed next to me, and grabbed me. We ran quickly, and I heard a jingle.

"Oh, no..."

I turned around as I ran, and saw Santa in his sleigh with the elves.

"RUN, YOU FILTHY PEASENTS! RUN BEFORE I BOUNCE – haha, that's what she said – OFF THE WALLS!" Santa yelled, 'ya-ing' again.

"Run, you little dumbass!" Dad shouted, and we sped up. He dropped something on the floor, and Santa ran into it.

Suddenly, explosions boomed all around us, and I turned to see Santa and his elves blown up, bits of red and beard wafting gently to the ground.

I turned my head forward again, and knew then I couldn't look back.

"RUN, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Dad screamed again, and I knew soon, I'd be back home, unsafe and unsound.

**Hey, end of this chapter YEAAAAAA! Maybe I should have more characters in it to make it interesting...hmmm...**

**Anyways, just a few things to some people in no particular order:**

**SpiritoftheMapleLeaf – Yeah, me neither, Santa would be awesome :D And thanks anyway :)**

**theNOmonster – haha I'm glad :D I will be updating now as much as possibru**

**Yea-Im-Piggeh – I'm just a random person, it happens natrually :) And thank you :D  
>NorthernItaly – ahaha thanks, I watch him too much though 8- don't we all?!**

**Kuroyami Kukaukuro – Thanks and I will :D **

**solaheartnet - Thanks so much :) OOOOOH I hope so :D Brofist!**

**Just some random replies there, people :) I think I'll start doing this more ^^, because you guys make me smile, and I thank you all who reviewed, favourited, looked at it and followed. WOOOOOOO! Brofist!**


	7. UPDATE

**Sorry I've not been updating much, but I will try, I promise! There's a story I'm working on, and it's eating up my time, and there's school and stuff, soo, ya know...**

**My twitters changed, by the way, but oh well. **

**Anyway, just a few words to some people:**

**PastaKolCheeseburger-SanPastaKolCheeseburger-San: I will try, random citizen :) Thanks for reading :D**

**Ghost Hand: Sure you can, no probs :D * brofist * I would so like to see that!**

**Pewdiepew 3: Haha, thanks :D**

**Haylee: I'll try, and thanks xD **

**Brofist to all who read and enjoy this, and you guys are just the best. I owe you all a cookie. **

**I'll update soon!**


	8. Returns and Disgraces

**Oh my God. Oh my God. **

**I'm back.**

**WOOOOW. I cannot believe I am such a let-down!**

**BIG BIG BIG thank you (and sorry) to everyone who reads and keeps commenting, you people are absolute PERFECTION. **

**Love you all, and brofist!xxx**

We made it home, after a few hours of running, Dad still muttering 'You little shit..' darkly under his breath.

By the time we made it back, after Santa was worn out from trying to jog to keep up with us, there were lights on back at the house and I could see the outline of Mom pacing anxiously in our living room.

Me and Dad stopped, both out of breath, and he took a moment to put his hand on my shoulder.

"Son..." he started, his fingers kneading like dough. "I hope you realise..."

I turned to look at him, a smile creasing my face.

"...what an absolute little shit you are!" he suddenly burst out, fingers digging hard into my shoulder, shaking me slightly.

"What?" I mouthed, my eyes widening.

"You're mother is half demented, my Anton is blown up... All I really have is you... Disgraaaaaaaace!" he hissed, shaking me again.

"I...I...I'm sorry, Dad, I love you." I said pathetically, before Dad poked me in the eye.

"Disgraces never get my loooove!" he said, pushing me toward the house.

As we walked, I sniffed, my nose dripping, my eyes flowing with tears. Strangely, they were tears more of joy.

I froze when I saw a red splat on the wall and ground on the house, and pointed at it curiously, not having to ask.

"Yes, that was Anton. Fucking disgrace. How can someone so perfect just blow up? I thought that would be impossibru!" Dad thundered, before opening the back door and letting me through.

"JB!" Mom cried, racing towards me and enveloping me in a warm, familiar, loving hug.

"Mommy!" I yelled happily, hugging her back.

"Tchuh." Dad tutted unemotionally, folding his arms.

Mom started kissing me happily on the cheeks, and I hugged her even harder, even drowning out Dad's comments ("Don't kiss him like that, I don't want him turning more into a homosexual." and "God, you're ass is fat.").

"Oh, JB, I'm so glad you're home!" Mom said, kissing my forehead softly.

"Me too!" I grinned, smiling at Dad.

"Don't put those disgrace eyes on me, gay." he spat, flicking his hair sassily*.

"Oh, JB, we're so happy!" Mom repeated, before rushing me to the kitchen to bake a pie.

"Not another one, wife." Dad critisised. "I don't want the disgrace getting too fat. He'd fall off my bike."

"Oh yes, darling," Mom whirled round to me. "You're father is taking you cycling tomorrow! Like you used to!"

"Oh, good!" I trilled, clapping.

Dad rolled his eyes. "You'd better be ready, son."

***is that even a word? XD**

**WELL, there you have it, a short, crappy return. I wonder what our favourite unloving dad has in store for JB. **

**SO, I am going to try SO HARD with this fanfiction and keep it going, I'm so sorry for being an absolute TOOL and going, meh. **

**I will try to make further chapters better, and please forgive this douchebag for not doing anything for the past months. **

**(btw I'm starting GCSE's, so it's a little bit difficult at the moment.)**

**So, I'll TRY and keep posted, thank you, sorry, and bye. :)**

**BROFIST.**


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